


Lost No More

by TheBlackWook



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Afterlife, Fix-It, Forgiveness, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackWook/pseuds/TheBlackWook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had sworn to God he would do what was right and yet, he realized he had been wrong all along and ended up offending God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost No More

**Author's Note:**

> This One-Shot was heavily inspired by the Dallas production of 2014, but you can read it as a canon-era or modern-era fic, this is to your own accord, taste and imagination. I hope you'll like it.

He could see the stars but not comprehend their light anymore. He could look at the sky but he found it cold and desolate for the first time in his life. No longer did he find shelter in the vastness of what lay above his head or in the warmth of stardust. And the reason for this loss was _him_. Jean Valjean.

The thief had freed Javert, he had saved his life and granted him forgiveness. A thief whom the inspector had chased restlessly whenever they had crossed paths. How could he accept the words of such a man ? Accepting meant that everything the policeman had ever done had been done the wrong way. Accepting meant that his whole life had been a lie all along. And he could not bear the thought. He could not bear the truth that he surely was the villain of a story, he who had always tried to be as righteous as he could. This was all too much all at once. His rosary, wrapped around his hand, felt impossibly heavy and gave him no comfort or reassurance. He had sworn to God he would do what was right and yet, he realized he had been wrong all along and ended up offending God. 

As he kept on walking without purpose, whispering frantically, he came to a halt as he stepped on a bridge. He approached from the railing and was captivated by the water underneath : black and wild. This darkness was all Javert could see now, far away from the lights of the past. And as he still could not find it in himself to accept what had happened, he climbed up on the railing, without a second thought. He kept on watching the water, he could not take his eyes off of it. He was still clutching his rosary even though he was beginning to understand what he was about to do : this brought a dry sneer on his face. He knew how ironic it was, trying to hold onto this wooden object as he would soon join Hell and its darkness without a single doubt. 

Javert closed his eyes and breathed one last time before he let the rosary fall on the railing as he was leaving for good. The air caressed his face roughly before he made contact with the water and he felt no more, thought no more. He was no more. Only the rosary stayed on the stone, a proof of the life he had decided to leave behind.

 

However, when he opened his eyes, he saw light again, he felt warm. After a while, he made out his surroundings and he realized he was in an endless garden. He only saw bright green valleys of grass and a giant tree ahead of him. He did not know where he was and he was clearly confused : if this was hell, he surely had imagined it wrong. Javert began walking towards the tree and before long he spotted a figure. As he kept on walking he could discern who stood before him. Javert had never seen him. He was a small old man, dressed as a bishop, and his face bore a sense of serenity that the inspector had never seen a man wore in his entire existence.

“Welcome here, brother.” The man spoke simply, a kind smile on his face.

“Who are you ?” Javert asked without softness, unlike the bishop.

“No one of importance, I am merely an offered hand for those who wish it.”

“I don’t need anything from you, now tell me where we are.”

“This is an unimportant question, my brother.”

“But I want to know. Am I in Hell ?”

“You will only pass through this place. But you are not ready yet to go further.”

Javert fell silent and moved past the bishop to go sit by the trunk of the tree. He did not say a single word and just kept looking around him. He could hear the faint tweets of birds and he closed his eyes for a moment. He passed his hands through the smooth and fresh grass : before he knew he was overwhelmed by the peacefulness of the place. In his life, he had allowed himself very little rest, and only few pleasures, thus the sensation was new but, surprisingly for him, it was not unpleasant, quite the opposite in fact.

And thus, the inspector sat by the tree. He refused to talk to the Bishop again until his soul could not be at peace, even with the relaxing atmosphere of the place he was in. He would just stand by him at first. In all honesty, Javert was intrigued by this man who always was so gentle and merciful to whoever passed by them. Then, when they were alone, Javert would talk. He barely said a word at the beginning, listening to the Bishop’s wisdom more than anything, but, gradually, he would speak more freely and release himself from burdens he never thought he had, from images he thought he had gotten rid of long ago. Strangely, Javert felt that the more he spoke with the kind old man, the more he felt rest and the less he was tormented. 

Fantine came to them after a while. She offered the Bishop the purest smile she had, her face bearing the trace of poverty, abuse and sickness no longer. She truly was a beautiful woman. She turned to Javert and nodded to him : she had learnt not to blame him for what had happened. The inspector ducked his head realizing how blind he had been at the time. She took his hand in return and gave it a gentle squeeze. He raised his head in time to see a faint smile on her face : he nodded at her, feeling gratefulness for the first time. It became a habit of her, to come and visit Javert and the Bishop. They would not talk, but they were both grateful for the company. At times, the inspector caught Fantine and the other man sharing knowing looks, or whispering how _“the time was almost there”_. He did not understood what they meant and tried not to dwell too much on it.

After Fantine, came Eponine Thénardier and the band of revolutionaries. They would not say a word to him, though they were not as sullen as Javert had thought they would. Only the girl dared to talk to him, as she had kept her mischievous ways even here. The policeman was first annoyed at her words of teasing and taunting. With time though, she became bearable and calmer and he tried to talk more in return. Spending time with the urchin - she had barely reached the age to be called a woman before her death – opened Javert’s eyes in a new way. The both of them shared traits and had had a similar youth. He realized knowing a person could change everything and that the way he had made himself the judge of so many, not giving them a chance, had been presumptuous. The bishop had offered nothing but wisdom, gentle smiles and kindness to him without knowing him. Step by step, Javert was beginning to learn and see things differently.

He fell in a comfortable routine. He would talk to the Bishop and ease his wounds and sat by the tree, next to Eponine or Fantine, the one who had decided to come. Speaking was not essential and more often than not, most of this stange company would be spent in silence, exchanging a few words now and then : Javert had never been talkative and never would be. 

Once, as he was discussing with the kind bishop, the latter rose to his feet with a knowing smile on his face.

“The time has finally come” He only whispered.

Javert, visibly confused, mimicked the old man’s moves and watched in the same direction, only to see a man coming towards them; a man he knew all too well. 

“Welcome here, my brother.” The bishop said.

“I thank you for showing me the path of goodness.” Valjean bowed to the man.

The Bishop patted Valjean’s head and squeezed his hands with gentleness in response. Fantine had come too, and was now thanking the man who had taken care of her precious little girl. Finally, the former convict turned to Javert.

“I am happy to see you here.”

“What is the meaning of this ?” Asked the inspector – he could not fathom how he could be in the same place of the saint Jean Valjean.

“God is merciful Javert and does not abandon a single one of us.”

Javert was dumbfounded and did not say anything else. The man before him turned to the bishop :

“It is time.”

“I believe so.” The old man replied.

Then, Valjean turned to Javert, a serene and gentle smile on his face :

“Come with us.”

“Do you really think I can ?”

“Do not worry old friend, there is place for everyone.”

Javert smiled and finally felt at peace.


End file.
